


with my hands on heaven

by hellhoundsprey



Series: ficlet prompts [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Barebacking, Bottom Jack, Established Relationship, M/M, Size Difference, Top Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: Prompt: sam / jack + size kink (esp his hands and dick)It’s Sunday and I’m feeling this one. (Kind of a sequel toYoung At Heart.)
Relationships: Jack Kline/Sam Winchester
Series: ficlet prompts [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/478657
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	with my hands on heaven

Jack’s mouth pulls to a smile before he’s even fully awake.

“Hm. Morning.”

He gets a kiss, sweet and tame. Shifts his legs wider, underneath the covers, so he can feel—more. All of it.

Sam’s large hand, wrapped around him dry and firm; the stubble of his beard catching on Jack’s cheek and the reciprocated, rough, “Mornin’,” and Jack huffs, pleased. Humps Sam’s hand until that retreats, dips down to cradle Jack’s balls instead. Jack pouts. Sam chuckles, “What?” and rubs two stiff fingers lower, down his taint, over the tight-again clutch of his asshole. “You need somethin’, huh?”

Sleepy, “Don’t stop,” and Sam kisses him again, rubs his fingers nice and low and Jack wants to tell him, “No, not that,” but Sam’s already scooting down, below the safety of the blanket and swallows the warm line of Jack’s dick down his throat, easy as that, and Jack’s hips truly rise off the bed for that.

Jack pushes the blanket away so he can watch better.

That effortless bob of Sam’s head.

Jack tucks some of that gorgeous hair behind one of those darling ears. Shifts, uncomfortable, for the dry finger threatening to breach him. Sam stops his efforts to reach across the bed, behind the pillows where they’d stored the lube last night. Squirts some on his fingers and Jack sighs with relief because Sam’s got his mouth back on his cock by then; sinks one finger into his ass so so slow and careful.

Jack tells him, “Feels good,” one hand in that hair just to hold onto something and Sam doesn’t reply. Just swallows around him, makes his throat go all tight and dreamy-perfect and Jack’s eyes roll back into his head and he holds Sam down, right there, and Sam allows it. Not much of a challenge for him, after all.

Sam comes up eventually to ask him, “Two?” and Jack nods, lip between his teeth. Plucks at his own nipple once Sam’s guided his limp hand towards it and winces for the stretch. Sam watches his face, suckles tight on the head of his dick while he does. Wants to know, “Okay?” and Jack nods again, and Sam’s face dimples up for that, and the wrinkles around his eyes smile their very own smile.

Jack huffs. Lets his head drop back into the pillow, feels his cheeks heating up pink. Drifts, relaxes.

Sam doesn’t ask again for the third. Shushes Jack sweet, his free hand on the quiver of Jack’s lower stomach. Keeps sucking him off through all of it, and that helps.

Again, “Okay?”

Jack cringes. “Big.”

Sam laughs. “Well, yeah. Sorry.”

“You wanna try again?”

“You don’t?”

Jack admits, “I dunno,” and Sam pushes himself higher for that, kisses him on the mouth for that. A there-there, it’s okay. Wet and warm and his fingers keep flexing inside Jack’s ass, pull apart and Jack grunts, off-guard.

“Hurts?”

“No.” Jack swallows, searches Sam’s morning-soft face. Cups it, rubs his thumb along one cheekbone. “I want it,”

and Sam tells him, “I know,” and kisses him again, and his knuckles grind flush with Jack’s taint and it feels odd, a little; still. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“You can use my mouth if you want.”

Sam hums happy. “Let me handle this. Keep playing with those tits for me, all right?”

Jack nods, frowns. Has Sam kneeling his way down, take a seat between Jack’s legs—pushes his leg back until it almost-touches Jack’s shoulder and Jack gasps, folded up and struggling, and Sam tells him to,

“Here, hold onto this,”

and he does, and.

Sam’s thighs underneath him help keeping his ass tilted up. Helps Sam to get his other hand down there, too, and he slips both his pointer fingers in and pulls him apart, and.

Jack gets a hold of his dick without being told to. Babbles, “Sam,” and Sam just crooks his fingers harder, pulls Jack’s ass wider until it feels weird and then some. Purses his lips, and Jack’s chest hitches with the fat line of spit that disappears inside of him, like this is normal, like this is what it’s for, and the next time he meets Sam’s eyes they’re dark and happy and Sam smiles, asks him,

“Yeah?”

and uses two fingers on each side, uses more force, pries Jack even further apart.

Jack can’t speak.

Can only stare up at his boyfriend, gape like a moron because oh, oh snap, he can’t.

“You gonna come?”

Jack nods, stupid.

“You want me to try?”

Again, “Uh-huh,” and Sam huffs relieved; gets more lube and Jack’s hand is hurrying the heck up. Mutters, “Please, please,” before Sam can lower himself down, keep him quiet with his tongue in his mouth. Pushes Jack’s leg even deeper and Jack feels it, then, the insane pressure and weight of his cock slipping where Jack’s wet and baby-opened, just enough, and Sam grunts like it hurts him as well and he’s popped the head of it inside, then, too-much and hot and slick and Jack comes on that high, shoots messy and choppy over his own hand.

Gasps wildly while Sam groans, rocks himself deeper through the clutch of Jack’s orgasm, curses under his breath and Jack hiccups, gulps for air, because gosh, oh, gosh, it’s, he’s.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Jack whimpers for the next two inches pumping into him, solid and violent and his hand slips on the hard plane of Sam’s stomach, and his mouth is open and sore and Sam looks so—beautiful, right now, so lost in bliss and focus and a snarl dances around his lip and he grits again,

“Shit,”

and rolls his hips, bumps the few inches he’s worked Jack’s ass up to home once, twice.

Dips his head down to kiss Jack on the mouth, drink down his noises. Has Jack scrambling like a bug for inches seven and eight and he seizes, then, a spasm down Sam’s back and Jack fucking feels that, moans with him as his orgasm takes him by surprise, whips him around and has his hips stuttering deep, involuntary.

“Fuck. Sorry…”

Jack promises, “It’s okay,” and feels dizzy with it, with the warmth spreading in his insides, with the flush of Sam’s chest, his face.

Another kiss to Jack’s mouth. “I’ll pull out, okay?” and Jack nods, and it hurts. Gets Sam’s fingers soothing and rubbing over the gape of his hole right after, spreading the wet and the heat and Sam murmurs, “Holy shit,” and, “Sorry,” and fingers the mess back inside Jack, eats at Jack’s mouth in the sweetest apology.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Ceremony of Innocence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368062) by [lemmasyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemmasyne/pseuds/lemmasyne)




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